Got some upgraded rollers for the PS90 mags that should be here soon!

Crossed into Canada with SAGELA....

with two concealed handguns loaded with hollow-points, two additional handguns, three bolt-action rifles, one AR-15, about 25 high-capacity magazines, three suppressors, six bottles of whiskey and thousands of rounds of ammo.

How easy was that?

Damn. Good thing you upgraded to the "Comfort Fit" pants before the trip.

I was just now up on my range screwing around behind the berm when I saw something glinting in the light. I usually grab a 12-gauge wad or two while up there if I can find one but today had a real haul. I found plenty of 5.45 copper jackets and similar in .308 (Tula steel). I also found 8-12 gauge wads,and a rock that had been cut in two with a bullet. 3 of the bullets are the .308, it appears they either dug themselves into the dirt or fragmented more than the 5.45. The .308s are the greyish-silver, the 5.45 are copper colored. What struck me as odd was that a few of my 5.45 are relatively intact, but bent in an L-shape. One of the .308 is actually inverted almost entirely, the tail of the bullet is intact while the rest of the jacket mushroomed over it. There is also one 12-gauge 00 buck pellet I dug from a scrap of wood that has another pellet from a birdshot shell lodged in it. I ran them under clean water and brushed them off with an old toothbrush. We`ll see what they look like dried.

It wasn't. The authorities were NOT amused.

Most of the way there for my .308 build now.

Oh, and also ... we drove for 70 miles at 80mph with a holstered revolver sitting on the back bumper of the truck.

Steve's the reason gun owners are looked at the way they are

You're allowed to take firearms into Canada?


Sent from Crimea, Russia

Mag dump 30 rounder Browning HiPower and scored 30 hits on the rolly/flippy steel target at 10 paces. Practice pays off!

Okay, now that I'm on a proper keyboard let me fill in some details . . . .

Larry (SAGELA) and I were returning yesterday from a fun and successful prairie dog hunt in eastern Montana. We left camp at about 8:00 a.m., knowing that we had a 16+ hour drive ahead of us and we wouldn't be home until very late. We passed the time swapping stories about shooting prairie dogs and talking about Montana history, rattlesnakes, guns, etc. We headed towards Great Falls, made a turn, and kept watching miles and miles of prairie go by as we jawboned....

Some time later, I looked up and saw some unexpected signs:

BORDER CROSSING

BIENVENUE AU CANADA

LEAVING MONTANA



Me: "Holy shit, I didn't know we were anywhere near Canada!"

We knew that guns+Canada is a bad combination, but there was nothing we could do but roll up to the checkpoint and hope for mercy. We got up to the booth, and the conversation went something like this:

Larry: "We got here by accident, we just want to turn around and go home."
Officer: "Can I see your passports, please?"
Larry: "We don't have passports! We didn't mean to be here!"
Officer: "Drivers licenses, please." We handed them over.
Officer: "Do you have any alcohol or tobacco in the vehicle?"
Larry: "We're not staying in Canada, we just want to turn around."
Officer: "Let me tell you how this works. I understand that you didn't MEAN to be here, but you're here now and this is how we do it. Do you have any firearms in the vehicle?"



We told him what we had: Four handguns, four rifles, and zero shotguns. He asked about rifle magazines, and we told him that we had about 25 of them. (All AR-15 mags, for my AR-15 and two bolt-action rifles that take AR mags.)

He finished doing his paperwork and then sent us over to Inspection Bay 4, where we were met by two other officers. They had us park the truck, then get out, and then they asked where the guns were and if we were carrying any. Yes, both of us had concealed pistols. They disarmed us (one of them muzzle-swept Larry as he did so and struggled to unload the 1911, obviously unfamiliar with it), asked us a few more questions and then sent us to the waiting room while they unloaded and inspected the whole truck (and it was packed TIGHTLY with lots of crap), both with hand inspection and with an X-ray machine.

Finally they called us back out, and the good news was that they didn't find anything "bad" that we hadn't declared. One officer then ran criminal background checks on us, while the other helped us re-load the truck. They put all of the guns right at the back of the truck, including the three handguns that we had had in the cab with us, since we still had to go through the American side of the border crossing in order to return home, and we might get inspected AGAIN. We got a little lecture about how all of the AR mags were illegal in Canada, and so were two of the pistols, and so were all three of my suppressors. They also told us that quite a few people get to the border by accident, and 90% of those that do so get arrested and sent to Canadian jail . . . because they have guns and other items in their vehicle that they don't declare. I guess we were in the lucky 10%.

Those two officers were actually pretty cool, all things considered. They treated us pretty well, except for muzzle-sweeping Larry with a loaded 1911.

So then we were back in the truck, taking a U-turn and going through the American border checkpoint. The guy there was easygoing, we chatted for a minute and then he sent us on our way.

So then we're off! Loving the freedom of the USA, and blasting southbound at 80mph loving the Montana speed limits!

A mile or so down the road, Larry decided that he wanted to get his carry pistol out of the back of the truck and back onto his hip where it belongs. We pulled over to the side of the highway, went to the back of the track and pulled out the bag where the Canadian officers had stashed our carry guns plus the S&W .22 revolver that had been in the cab. We stood by the road and re-loaded the carry mags and guns, still pretty rattled by the whole experience. The traffic was flying by us, the prairie wind was blowing hard, etc. but we finally got our stuff together and took the empty bag up to the cab, and drove off.

About an hour later, we were still high-tailing it south at 80mph. We came up behind this shitty little econobox car in the right lane, clearly struggling to keep up and keep in the lane with the cross-wind blowing. We moved to the left lane and passed him; I looked over at the driver and he had a tight grip on the wheel and was very intently watching the road, trying to keep alive I guess.

We moved past him and stayed in the left lane, but then a couple of minutes later I saw this little yellow shitbox creeping up alongside us on the right. I looked over and laughed, it was so comical . . . but then I realized that the driver was trying to say something to me. I couldn't tell what he was saying, but he was indicating something at the back of the truck.

We pulled over, trying to figure out what could be wrong since the tailgate was clearly closed . . . and found this:





Yup. As we were putting our carry pistols back on just after we re-entered the U.S., we had put the .22 pistol on the bumper and forgotten in there amidst all of the turmoil. We went 70 miles at 80mph . . . and it was still there!

We caught up to the little yellow shitbox a few miles down the road and waved our thanks.

Here's a story about the Coutts border crossing, which is where we were:
Eleven guns seized at Coutts border crossing in less than 24 hours

Note the very last line: "Travellers can avoid firearms charges by simply declaring all guns in their possession at the first opportunity when entering Canada."

Yup, it worked for us . . . but I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't scared out of my gourd the whole time. I was having visions of losing our guns, losing the truck, going to jail, etc. I guess, all things considered, we did the right thing and it ended well, but I sure wouldn't want to do it again.

Larry and I both agreed that if it happened again, we'd make an illegal U-turn before the crossing and deal with any consequences of that.

Turns out that we made a wrong turn back in Great Falls, and drove 115 miles to the Canadian border . . . without ever realizing that we were going the wrong way. That may sound a little ludicrous, but things are different out there; it's just miles and miles of prairie and precious few road signs, because there aren't many turnoffs.

It's good to be back.

Fucking nuckleheads.


That's gunna be one to tell the grand kids though!

Prairie dog hunting sounds fun!


Sent from Crimea, Russia

Someone's getting a delay on their next purchase.